Mage's Rise
by The1NightOwl
Summary: "Harry, you must understand my reasoning. The war was not over, despite what the normal wizards were told. We needed a trump card. But the kind of trump card that we needed could not be made in an instant. The amount of power that is required to fight him... to gain that power one would have to do what he did, which would only increase our problems. But there was another option..."


The old woman stared down into the basket with a look of compassion and sorrow.

Quietly she whispered, "We're making a terrible mistake..."

Soft footsteps could be heard before a bearded face appeared over her shoulder. The expression behind the beard was far too stoic to be natural.

In a toneless voice the man said, "After Black ran off we have no other option. You know what the ministry would do to him if they found his potential."

The woman took a shuddering breath and glanced to the side for a second. Her face went through a maelstrom of emotions before settling on a stoic mask as well. Her eyes settled back onto the basket. "And can you truly say we doing any better?"

A brief look of pain flashed over the man's face and he too glanced away. He got up from his squatting position and he disappeared from view. His voice could be heard, much fainter than before, and holding much less of the conviction that it did. "As much as I wish it could be this is not a matter of right or wrong. This... This is picking a poison."

The woman simply continued to stare down at the basket for a moment longer. After a brief look of shame, she stood up and stared hatefully at something behind it. Her voice was cold as after another moment she said- "...Go over the plan one last time."

A rustling could be heard from a few feet away. The mans voice returned in a soft baritone "Cast the spells, lay the ward stones," He hesitated for a moment before continuing slightly quieter, "...Carve the runes, inject the magic, and drop off."

The woman flinched slightly at something. "Again."

The man appeared at the basket again. He stared down into it and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them with renewed determination. "Cast the spells, lay the ward stones," once more his voice jumped slightly and his ice blue eyes showed his hesitance as he continued, "Carve the runes, inject the magic, drop off."

The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Again." she said firmly. She was waiting for something.

The man stared down into the basket once more. He stayed silent for a bit, his eyes showing the fierce thoughts running through his mind. He quietly continued for a few moments longer before he seemed to decide on a course of action. Everything about him screamed his reluctance in what he had to do. However at the same time, he seemed to completely accept it as well. He stepped away, disappearing from view, but his voice had the sound of a man that had complete confidence in his actions. "Cast spells, lay stone, carve runes, inject magic, drop off."

The woman nodded her head and opened her eyes. She heard what she wanted. "Cast spells." She murmured. She nodded once more and stood up.

She flicked her wrist and swiftly raised her arm with a well practiced ease. There was now a stick of sorts in her hand. She began to go through a terribly complicated dance with it, involving many swishes and flicks. Meanwhile the old mans soft footsteps could be heard quite some ways behind the basket in the silence of the night.

Suddenly a warm feeling flowed through my body as the woman whispered something. I let out a soft cry at the unfamiliarity of the feeling before going silent as suddenly there was a pacifier in my mouth. Surprised at the sudden intrusion I went silent, exploring the new comer in my mouth.

Quietly the woman knelt down with a grace that seemed unfit for one of her age. She stared deep in my eyes, and I could see some sort of emotion in them.

As the old mans footsteps returned she whispered,"I'm sorry."

The old man appeared in front of her and she looked up. I could see her swallow slightly before slowly standing and pointing her stick at me. The expression on her face was one of pure pity, and helplessness.

"This is going to hurt little one." The man whispered. He looked down into the basket and I could see white hair soaked with the tears of his grief hanging from his chin. I smiled up around the pacifier and reached for the beard in an attempt to play with it. He flinched slightly at my grin before looking away. He too suddenly had his stick pointing at me, but unlike his earlier expression he seemed to suddenly be stoic again.

Quietly they both stayed silent. The man seemed to be waiting for something.

A brief shadow passed over the two of them and I could see the moonlight being concealed by a passing cloud.

The man flicked his stick and suddenly the pacifier in my mouth glowed slightly.

The woman grimaced at the sight of the glow and glanced away once more. She too flicked her wrist and suddenly there were figures of dragons floating around the hood of the basket . The dragons seemed to actually be flying and playing with one another. The smallest of them, a golden one, was being roughed into a corner, with all the others surrounding it. Entranced I reached a small hand up and attempted to grab the small golden dragon that was roaring silently at the others. They all moved away from my hand and I giggled as the small dragon settled onto my finger with a smug look.

My eyes returned to the man and woman staring down at me, but my focus quickly returned to the playful dragons.

I could hear a soft conversation playing out above me but I couldn't find enough interest in it to pay attention to the details. But there was one part that I will always remember.

The part where they quietly they whispered as one. "Tenerisque."

And then of course the part after. The part that started with a soft sob from the woman. The part where all I knew was pain.

 **Written by a high school student who has honours classes and is running track. Slow uploads. Cover picture not mine, unknown artist.**


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